Today, we'll look at the current state of the Evening Star and where the messages the players found come into play.
---
First and most importantly, four of the six water tanks that protect the habitable section of the ship are empty; both of the Beta tanks have simply been drained over time to keep the atmosphere sufficiently oxygenated and to apply microbursts of hydrogen gas to course-correct as the ship has swung in a slow orbit around the Earth on autopilot. Alpha tank #1, directly behind the resleeving section, has a more serious problem - the outer hull of the tank has been fractured, leading to the water bleeding out and slowly sublimating into the void when the ship has swung into the sunlit side of the orbit. Beta tank #2 has it worse, however - the material of the tank has been infected with rogue nanoswarms that have turned it into a churning soup of water and pseudo-organic nanite slime. The tank's structural integrity is significantly weakened, and the infested slime has spent a few years slowly oozing through the inner wall of the vessel; the exercise room adjacent to the tank has layers of melted-looking metallic encrustations covering the outer wall. Anyone who viewed the XP clip of the EVA crew member sampling the metallic mold on the hull will recognize similar traits between the XP clip and the encrustations. Those who failed the Will check become aware of a subtle pattern in the encrustations that they'll feel compelled to approach and try to trace by hand; if not prevented from doing so, they'll need to make a Dur x2 check to see if they become infected by the exsurgent virus strain present.
The resleeving lab where the players start is reasonably intact, with a basic desktop cornucopia machine that was kept off the ship's mesh to avoid it being reset from being jailbroken. It can fab up simple items like clothing and weapons without moving parts in a matter of minutes; more complex items like firearms or ammunition will take at least an hour to fab up. Anyone who failed the Will check related to the picture of corpses and bloody-hued globs of nutrient gel will experience a deep sense of dread as long as they remain in the resleeving room, taking 1 Stress every ten minutes. If they accumulate enough for a temporary derangement, they become convinced that the globs are actually animate, trying to squirm through the air toward them, bearing some horrific alien plague in them. They need to make Ref x3 checks every minute they remain inside to avoid the globules; each degree of failure indicates that they take 1 Stress as they collide with bubbles of crimson goo.
The science lab is an absolute disaster, looking as if a firefight broke out inside, with equipment blown to pieces and left floating free. Some of the debris is crusty brown-black blobs, dried blood from the three corpses that have settled into the corners of the room, desiccation and the soft impacts of objects over the years having rendered them into vaguely humanoid shapes of crumbling tissue. Medical skills can reveal that one of the corpses appears to have died due to soaking up a great deal of small-arms fire, well in excess of what should have been needed to kill it. An MoS of 30 or better reveals certain disturbing traits, requiring a Will x3 check to avoid taking 1d10/2 Stress as the corpse's claw-like fingertips, signs of accelerated regeneration at the site of some of the bullet wounds, and jaw full of jagged fangs indicate a decidedly inhuman transformation arrested halfway through the process.
The habitation ring is home to little more than alarming messages painted on the walls in a mixture of blood and other, fouler substances, all long since dried and dessicated. A recurring theme in the messages suggests that the crew was hearing something in the walls, that the evacuees were turning feral, and that the void of space was screaming. Any player who accessed the XP of speaker-distorted screaming will begin to hear a soft sound in the background, which evades their direct attention; for the rest of their time on the ship, they suffer one Stress every hour that they're awake as the sound slowly resolves into a distant wailing noise somewhere outside the hull of the ship, interspersed with occasional scratching from something outside against the outer hull.
One of the single-room habitation modules in the Gamma section is jammed shut; accessing the door's programming directly via the maintenance port will permit a Programming check to reset the software, and a Hardware check of an appropriate nature can be made to find the archaic-looking hard reset toggle. Opening the door releases a sickly-sweet aroma into the rest of the ship; anyone with a medical or biological sciences skill will recognize the smell of ongoing rot. The room itself is a wreck like the rest of the hab modules, but the 'roof' of the room has the woman from the piloting and astrophysics clip fused to it by rippling waves of metallic mold. She appears dead to most, but anyone who viewed the XP will see her breathing slowly and feel a strong urge to free her. Coming into contact with the mold requires a Dur x2 check to avoid becoming fused to the contact point, requiring the removal of the offending body part to get free. Worse, at the contact, everyone will see the woman's eyes open, her irises dilated to the point of being nearly all pupil, and start screaming with an atonal voice that sounds like the shriek of a modem handshake. Anyone hearing this needs to make a Cog+Int+Will check to avoid becoming infected with a memetic version of the exsurgent virus.
The bottom segment of the crew quarters contains the remains of the ship's fabbers, a roiling ball of ever-shifting nanites that seem to be caught in a war against one another, as well as the broken-open wreckage of the crew lockers, with the personal effects strewn across the space and slowly tumbling. One anomalous item is a deformed skull, looking as if it belonged to a person with an unusually large cranium; a matching set of holes suggests that it was shot by a high-velocity kinetic weapon, probably resulting in it expiring. Anyone who touches it will need to make a Som x3 check to keep control as the ship suddenly seems to lurch around them as their muscles start spasming and throwing them around for the next half-minute or so. Close examination of the skull with the remaining lab equipment will show that it appears to be artificial, with heavy amounts of carbon nanofiber strung through it to reinforce it; the muscle spasms appear, after examination, to be triggered by the skull's unusual patterns of electrical conductivity.
The AR/VR chamber is home to a bedlam of virtual nightmare. Psychosurgically butchered versions of the ship's crew exist in a dismal half-life, instantiated in a simulspace that depicts an endless labyrinth of scorching hot sulfurous stone corridors choked with scalding hot air, foul clouds of steam and smoke, and an AI in the form of a mocking, tormenting imp that endlessly harasses its specific victim. There are periodic intrusions through the stone of anachronistic fragments of the ship itself; the comms antenna is a common one, although it has the flexibility of a tentacle and lashes out at anyone close to it. None of the crew are coherent or salvagable, unfortunately.
---
Next time, we'll venture outside the crew area into the cargo holds and the maintenance area, and perhaps see what became of the refugees from the Fall itself!
Showing posts with label Eclipse Phase. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eclipse Phase. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Monday, November 9, 2015
Elicpse Phase - Wakeful, Part Two
Last time the Octopus posted, we were looking at the early stages of an Eclipse Phase adventure. Let's pick back up today with the next part of it, wherein we look at the ship itself. Unfortunately, finding a map for a cargo starship has proven beyond my Google-fu, so we'll be laying it out in words.
The Evening Star is a cylindrical vessel 150 meters in lengths and 30 meters across, built with trilateral symmetry; designed to experience most of the trip either accelerating or decelerating, the whole thing is arranged into floors, each one occupying a ten-meter segment. The thirty meters in the middle are reserved for the crew of the vessel, with the medical bay currently occupied by the players insulated from the outer edge of the vessel by one of the massive water tanks. The sixty meters at the nose are reserved for the cargo bays, as are the thirty meters 'below' the habitation segments. The last thirty meters are reserved for the ship's non-life-support systems, including the drive and the communication arrays.
The habitation segments have personal quarters arranged into sets of eight on each of the trilateral portions on the 'top' segment; on a normal trip with only twelve people, each of the crew essentially had a bedroom and a living room reserved for their own use. Each of these segments has a small galley attached, enough to let each person handle their meals in private if so desired; shared between two people the galleys were more than enough to let the crew essentially function with nothing more than professional overlap if they wanted.
The middle segment has the vessel's water tanks arrange in six segments around the outer hull, These served as much as radiation shielding as water supply or emergency fuel, protecting the ship's medical and resleeving facility from radiation along with the exercise room, the food stores for the crew, and a science lab for studies being done on the long haul. The resleeving facility is built to be able to grow new morphs as needed, keeping a stock of six healthy spare morphs aboard the ship during most hauls; the usual load was three splicers, two furies, and a sylph, the latter being designated for the captain at any given time.
The bottom segment housed entertainment facilities, including one room dedicated to a localized and isolated mesh network for people to use for communal VR experiences, including multiplayer games and for the purpose of briefing the crew when necessary. It also houses rows of lockers for personal effects not stored in a person's rooms and the on-ship fabbing facilities; being a long-range cargo hauler that could be out for years at a time, the fabbers aboard the ship are quite thoroughly jailbroken, capable of fabbing up anything that the user has materials and schematics for.
Outside of this area, each cargo level is split into three bays, with mass arranged so that the thrust from the vessel's three exhaust nozzles is distributed as evenly as possible across the ship's framework. The three decks at the top and the three under the habitation area are generally reserved for radiation-resistant cargo - blocks of raw fabber material, raw ore, masses of cometary ice on the odd occasions that someone decides to haul back only part of a comet, and so on. The three bays directly above the crew section are reserved for more delicate cargo - anything easily damaged by radiation goes here, as does any organic life, whether stored in a support tube or left free to grow during the trip to the cargo's destination.
The primary drive for the ship is a four-chamber ion drive that uses a small trickle of water from the tanks to propel the ship; the thrust is absolutely minimal, just enough to provide the ghost of gravity needed to provide orientation to the ship's design without seriously hampering the crew climbing up and down the central shaft, and with no risk of stray objects dropping down the chamber with any significant danger. Hydrogen harvested by breaking the water down gets used to provide maneuvering jets when the ship reaches the halfway point of a given journey; over the course of a week, cargo would be strapped back down and personal items stowed, followed by a few hours spent carefully inverting the vessel before turning the ion drive back on.
This, of course, is the baseline design of the ship; anyone with an appropriate Hardware skill knows this, and the ship's schematics can be pulled from the shipboard mesh. Of course, the degree to which reality deviates from the blueprint makes it somewhat less than reliable.
---
Next time, we'll look at the physical changes that the Evening Star has suffered since it went missing, and touch on some of the horrific aspects of it.
The Evening Star is a cylindrical vessel 150 meters in lengths and 30 meters across, built with trilateral symmetry; designed to experience most of the trip either accelerating or decelerating, the whole thing is arranged into floors, each one occupying a ten-meter segment. The thirty meters in the middle are reserved for the crew of the vessel, with the medical bay currently occupied by the players insulated from the outer edge of the vessel by one of the massive water tanks. The sixty meters at the nose are reserved for the cargo bays, as are the thirty meters 'below' the habitation segments. The last thirty meters are reserved for the ship's non-life-support systems, including the drive and the communication arrays.
The habitation segments have personal quarters arranged into sets of eight on each of the trilateral portions on the 'top' segment; on a normal trip with only twelve people, each of the crew essentially had a bedroom and a living room reserved for their own use. Each of these segments has a small galley attached, enough to let each person handle their meals in private if so desired; shared between two people the galleys were more than enough to let the crew essentially function with nothing more than professional overlap if they wanted.
The middle segment has the vessel's water tanks arrange in six segments around the outer hull, These served as much as radiation shielding as water supply or emergency fuel, protecting the ship's medical and resleeving facility from radiation along with the exercise room, the food stores for the crew, and a science lab for studies being done on the long haul. The resleeving facility is built to be able to grow new morphs as needed, keeping a stock of six healthy spare morphs aboard the ship during most hauls; the usual load was three splicers, two furies, and a sylph, the latter being designated for the captain at any given time.
The bottom segment housed entertainment facilities, including one room dedicated to a localized and isolated mesh network for people to use for communal VR experiences, including multiplayer games and for the purpose of briefing the crew when necessary. It also houses rows of lockers for personal effects not stored in a person's rooms and the on-ship fabbing facilities; being a long-range cargo hauler that could be out for years at a time, the fabbers aboard the ship are quite thoroughly jailbroken, capable of fabbing up anything that the user has materials and schematics for.
Outside of this area, each cargo level is split into three bays, with mass arranged so that the thrust from the vessel's three exhaust nozzles is distributed as evenly as possible across the ship's framework. The three decks at the top and the three under the habitation area are generally reserved for radiation-resistant cargo - blocks of raw fabber material, raw ore, masses of cometary ice on the odd occasions that someone decides to haul back only part of a comet, and so on. The three bays directly above the crew section are reserved for more delicate cargo - anything easily damaged by radiation goes here, as does any organic life, whether stored in a support tube or left free to grow during the trip to the cargo's destination.
The primary drive for the ship is a four-chamber ion drive that uses a small trickle of water from the tanks to propel the ship; the thrust is absolutely minimal, just enough to provide the ghost of gravity needed to provide orientation to the ship's design without seriously hampering the crew climbing up and down the central shaft, and with no risk of stray objects dropping down the chamber with any significant danger. Hydrogen harvested by breaking the water down gets used to provide maneuvering jets when the ship reaches the halfway point of a given journey; over the course of a week, cargo would be strapped back down and personal items stowed, followed by a few hours spent carefully inverting the vessel before turning the ion drive back on.
This, of course, is the baseline design of the ship; anyone with an appropriate Hardware skill knows this, and the ship's schematics can be pulled from the shipboard mesh. Of course, the degree to which reality deviates from the blueprint makes it somewhat less than reliable.
---
Next time, we'll look at the physical changes that the Evening Star has suffered since it went missing, and touch on some of the horrific aspects of it.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Eclipse Phase - Wakeful, Part One
So, since it's coming up on Halloween, I figured I'd take a little bit and produce an adventure across the next few days for fans of the horror/conspiracy sci-fi game Eclipse Phase that people can enjoy. As a synopsis, the players are awakened to find themselves aboard a derelict spacecraft in Earth orbit, with the air on the thin and stale side but breathable and the temperature hovering on the cold side of survivable. None of them know why they're here; there's a significant chunk of continuity lost for each of them. They need to get out somehow, of course, and find their way to safety - but can they do it before something goes wrong, or before whoever - or whatever - put them here comes looking for them?
---
The derelict in question is the Evening Star, a former cargo hauler that went missing during the events of the Fall; it was on record as accepting a sizable number of fully instantiated refugees from the space elevators before going completely silent and vanishing. The ship's life support system was designed to support a maximum of one hundred people, so it was assumed that the crowding from the refugees overwhelmed the ship's ability to cope and everyone aboard died of anoxia.
So when the players awaken in the ship's on-board backup facility with the lights on and the air cold but breathable, those aware of the circumstances of the ship's disappearance might be justifiably concerned. Also of concern is that the players' muses will report that, according to the still-functional shipboard mesh, they're missing about six months of personal time. Oh, and they're all sleeved in naked morphs they're unfamiliar with - a mix of splicers and furies, with nothing particularly exotic about them.
Checking the ship's mesh will show that public access allows for checking the time, sending and receiving messages, and access to video from the hallways and cargo holds. At the time of waking, nothing shows on any of the video feeds, and each player has one or more messages waiting for them with no subject or sender information available. There's no gravity, leaving the resleeving room full of floating bubbles of nutrient gel as players emerge from the storage tubes.
The primary goal of the adventure is for the players to find a way to escape the ship and make their way back to some hub of civilization; anything they can salvage to bring back as proof of where they were will be of immense value in the old-style economy of cislunar space. Of course, salvaging things from a derelict vessel in cislunar space has risks in and of itself.
The messages for the players depend on the skills of their characters.
Anyone with skills relevant to the TITANs, AI research, or the Singularity has this message waiting for them, apparently an random excerpt from a longer message: "ry has the chips; meet her in forward hold C at the midpoint to make the swap. Be careful, she might be packing an organic-hunting decon swarm and be aiming to scrub you to get the box and keep the chips. Don't let her know about Mic"
Attached to this message is an XP file; if the player accesses it, they need to make a Will x3 check to avoid taking 1d10/2 Stress as they experience roughly 30 seconds of intensely burning pain and the sound of speaker-distorted screaming.
Those with skills relevant to biotech, genetics, or medical skills past first aid have another message waiting: "Something's gotten in the nutrient system for the morph storage. Not sure what, but the system's filtration is barely keeping up with cleaning it up. Next layover, I recommend we do a full purge on the system. Even if it's harmless, who wants to instantiate in a tub full of blood-colored goo?" Attached is what appears to be an image file, but it's heavily distorted and filled with pixel noise. Running it through image-processing software will clean it up, and will a MoS of 10 or better wil any relevant skills; either reveals it to be a snap of the medical bay the group is in, with half a dozen ragged corpses floating in null-G and surrounded by floating globules of blood. Failing a Will x3 check causes 1d10/2 Stress and the realization that all the nutrient gel globs look bloody.
Anyone with hardware skills has a message that reads "Can whoever has the next rotation check the after solars? The system's bugging out pretty bad and keeps insisting they're oriented at a weird angle to incoming, even after I punch in corrections. They're either at 65 or 190 to the solar instead of the 90." Attached is a short video from an external camera, which shows an extension with solar panels along it quiver slowly for nearly a minute before it suddenly and impossibly curls toward the camera and the feed goes dark. Witnessing this is enough to prompt a Will x3 check, with failure causing 1d10/5 Stress.
Those with conspiracy theory or topics related to the Fall as interests have the following "lling you, something;s shadowing the ship. I know the radar and lidar haven't returned anything, but I keep seeing stars get eclipsed by whatever it is. Probably some milspec stealth thing, but what do they want with us? Look, I'm sending the vid with highlights on when the stars get eclipsed. Whatever it is, it's huge." Attached is the described video; it seems to suggest a large object at some distance from the hull camera following the same trajectory as the ship. Viewing it causes no Stress.
Media skills and journalism/investigation skills results in the following message: "ow what the hell Burns thinks she's doing but there's no way we can send that footage to the rest of the system, they'll think we're insane conspiracy theorists cooking up faked XPs. I don't care what she and Mort have recorded, if we have to we'll blow the fuses on the comm mast and tell them their bug must've done it. No reason to panic anyone off-ship if it's something we picked up on the last run. Tell her that sh" Attached is a short XP clip from a person in a somewhat clumsy vacsuit working their way along the hull of the ship, stopping every few meters to take samples of something that resembles a metallic mold on the ship's hull. The clip cuts out when the person gets to the airlock. Have those who watch it roll Will x3; no Stress results from viewing the XP, but failing the Will check has repercussions elsewhere.
Piloting, astrophysics, and alien technology skills get a message that simply contain a video clip of a panicky-looking splicer with a weird blue mottling across her face. She seems to be hiding in a closet somewhere, and she's whispering to the camera. "My name is Mari Burns. I don't know if this will ever get out, but I have to try. The ship is infected with some kind of nanite plague, I've got no idea where it came from. The metal's infested, we're bleeding air, most of the rest of the crew is either dead, insane, or turned into something not even close to human. I'm pretty sure I'm infected - I keep hallucinating sights and sounds. Please, if you see this, stay off the Evening Star. Burn us with plasma if you can. We're a plague ship and for the sake of transhumanity we can't let this land anywhere." Her eyes unfocus at this point, and those watching get treated to several seconds of her screaming hysterically before the video cuts out. Viewing it calls for a Will x3 check, with 1 point of Stress lost if successful and 1d10/2 lost if unsuccessful, plus later repercussions.
Next time when I come back to this, I'll see about digging up a map of the ship and explaining some of what's aboard. (Yes, it involves exsurgents.)
---
The derelict in question is the Evening Star, a former cargo hauler that went missing during the events of the Fall; it was on record as accepting a sizable number of fully instantiated refugees from the space elevators before going completely silent and vanishing. The ship's life support system was designed to support a maximum of one hundred people, so it was assumed that the crowding from the refugees overwhelmed the ship's ability to cope and everyone aboard died of anoxia.
So when the players awaken in the ship's on-board backup facility with the lights on and the air cold but breathable, those aware of the circumstances of the ship's disappearance might be justifiably concerned. Also of concern is that the players' muses will report that, according to the still-functional shipboard mesh, they're missing about six months of personal time. Oh, and they're all sleeved in naked morphs they're unfamiliar with - a mix of splicers and furies, with nothing particularly exotic about them.
Checking the ship's mesh will show that public access allows for checking the time, sending and receiving messages, and access to video from the hallways and cargo holds. At the time of waking, nothing shows on any of the video feeds, and each player has one or more messages waiting for them with no subject or sender information available. There's no gravity, leaving the resleeving room full of floating bubbles of nutrient gel as players emerge from the storage tubes.
The primary goal of the adventure is for the players to find a way to escape the ship and make their way back to some hub of civilization; anything they can salvage to bring back as proof of where they were will be of immense value in the old-style economy of cislunar space. Of course, salvaging things from a derelict vessel in cislunar space has risks in and of itself.
The messages for the players depend on the skills of their characters.
Anyone with skills relevant to the TITANs, AI research, or the Singularity has this message waiting for them, apparently an random excerpt from a longer message: "ry has the chips; meet her in forward hold C at the midpoint to make the swap. Be careful, she might be packing an organic-hunting decon swarm and be aiming to scrub you to get the box and keep the chips. Don't let her know about Mic"
Attached to this message is an XP file; if the player accesses it, they need to make a Will x3 check to avoid taking 1d10/2 Stress as they experience roughly 30 seconds of intensely burning pain and the sound of speaker-distorted screaming.
Those with skills relevant to biotech, genetics, or medical skills past first aid have another message waiting: "Something's gotten in the nutrient system for the morph storage. Not sure what, but the system's filtration is barely keeping up with cleaning it up. Next layover, I recommend we do a full purge on the system. Even if it's harmless, who wants to instantiate in a tub full of blood-colored goo?" Attached is what appears to be an image file, but it's heavily distorted and filled with pixel noise. Running it through image-processing software will clean it up, and will a MoS of 10 or better wil any relevant skills; either reveals it to be a snap of the medical bay the group is in, with half a dozen ragged corpses floating in null-G and surrounded by floating globules of blood. Failing a Will x3 check causes 1d10/2 Stress and the realization that all the nutrient gel globs look bloody.
Anyone with hardware skills has a message that reads "Can whoever has the next rotation check the after solars? The system's bugging out pretty bad and keeps insisting they're oriented at a weird angle to incoming, even after I punch in corrections. They're either at 65 or 190 to the solar instead of the 90." Attached is a short video from an external camera, which shows an extension with solar panels along it quiver slowly for nearly a minute before it suddenly and impossibly curls toward the camera and the feed goes dark. Witnessing this is enough to prompt a Will x3 check, with failure causing 1d10/5 Stress.
Those with conspiracy theory or topics related to the Fall as interests have the following "lling you, something;s shadowing the ship. I know the radar and lidar haven't returned anything, but I keep seeing stars get eclipsed by whatever it is. Probably some milspec stealth thing, but what do they want with us? Look, I'm sending the vid with highlights on when the stars get eclipsed. Whatever it is, it's huge." Attached is the described video; it seems to suggest a large object at some distance from the hull camera following the same trajectory as the ship. Viewing it causes no Stress.
Media skills and journalism/investigation skills results in the following message: "ow what the hell Burns thinks she's doing but there's no way we can send that footage to the rest of the system, they'll think we're insane conspiracy theorists cooking up faked XPs. I don't care what she and Mort have recorded, if we have to we'll blow the fuses on the comm mast and tell them their bug must've done it. No reason to panic anyone off-ship if it's something we picked up on the last run. Tell her that sh" Attached is a short XP clip from a person in a somewhat clumsy vacsuit working their way along the hull of the ship, stopping every few meters to take samples of something that resembles a metallic mold on the ship's hull. The clip cuts out when the person gets to the airlock. Have those who watch it roll Will x3; no Stress results from viewing the XP, but failing the Will check has repercussions elsewhere.
Piloting, astrophysics, and alien technology skills get a message that simply contain a video clip of a panicky-looking splicer with a weird blue mottling across her face. She seems to be hiding in a closet somewhere, and she's whispering to the camera. "My name is Mari Burns. I don't know if this will ever get out, but I have to try. The ship is infected with some kind of nanite plague, I've got no idea where it came from. The metal's infested, we're bleeding air, most of the rest of the crew is either dead, insane, or turned into something not even close to human. I'm pretty sure I'm infected - I keep hallucinating sights and sounds. Please, if you see this, stay off the Evening Star. Burn us with plasma if you can. We're a plague ship and for the sake of transhumanity we can't let this land anywhere." Her eyes unfocus at this point, and those watching get treated to several seconds of her screaming hysterically before the video cuts out. Viewing it calls for a Will x3 check, with 1 point of Stress lost if successful and 1d10/2 lost if unsuccessful, plus later repercussions.
Next time when I come back to this, I'll see about digging up a map of the ship and explaining some of what's aboard. (Yes, it involves exsurgents.)
Monday, October 26, 2015
Eclipse Phase: Before The Fall Setup, Part 7 - The United Nations
Continuing with the Eclipse Phase setup for the mini-campaign set before the events of the Fall, we'll be looking at the United Nations and why they went from a largely toothless legislative body to an organization with a paramilitary force like the Peacekeepers.
---
In the years between the present day and the time just before the Fall, the global political environment shifted significantly, with the least developed nations slowly collapsing into war-torn tribal states, with refugees streaming away from climate disasters and would-be warlords fighting over the limited resources of these regions. The more developed nations attempted to help as much as possible, although the more militaristic and insular societies resented even the handful of refugees they deigned to accept.
The more observant megacorps and the first hypercorps, augmented with the latest smart systems to analyze events, foresaw the collapse of even the most developed nations from the destabilized regions if nothing was done to prevent it. As a result, they began a number of initiatives to stabilize the least-perturbed regions, purchasing ravaged stretches of land and using nanotech to swiftly assemble entire buildings dedicated to producing cheap supplies and housing in a seemingly selfless humanitarian effort.
In practice, it gave the corps an in-road to build defensive installations, which they quietly used to pacify the more violent warlord with assaults by autonomous squads of war machines, resulting in several carefully concealed atrocities. They followed this up with establishing refugee cities outfitted with swiftly manufactured basic amenities, carefully spread over the endangered areas and linked into increasingly powerful mesh networks. The corps, once a solid cordon was established with their work, contacted the UN and, as a gestalt bargaining force, offered the UN a deal: they would support the creation of an international paramilitary force under UN control in each country they were based in. They'd even supply this new force with military-grade armament.
In exchange, the UN would recognize each involved corp as an independent sovereign nation with a seat and a vote, a move that would render the organization almost half actual countries and half corporate structures. Refuse, the the corps would consolidate their own council and take the matter of dealing with the destabilized areas into their own hands. The UN, aware that a few atrocities that hadn't been covered up thoroughly enough, agreed to the offer.
Backlash was swift; several prominent nations - the United States being the loudest but far from the only - withdrew from the UN in protest of such an international force existing. The end of the backlash was almost as swift, as the corps refused to sell their goods to the countries that protested, causing them all to back down and rejoin the UN by the end of the second month.
The formation of the actual Peacekeeper force took almost a year, as candidates from sources all over the globe were either invited to take the tests or applied on their own initiative, hoping to do some good or at least prevent the Peacekeepers from becoming the strong arm of a totalitarian regime. Some post-Fall scholars point to this as the moment where the military forces of countries like the US began work on the projects that ultimately led to the TITANs, in a fearful attempt to stay a step ahead of the Peacekeepers.
At the time of the game start, the Peacekeepers have been in operation for well over a decade, working hard to bring peace to the more violent areas of the globe, taking out warlords and deliering shipments of humanitarian aid to those driven from their homes. Overall, the force has been a success, with no known repeats of the atrocities that preceded it at the hands of the corps who now outnumber the actual nations at a 2:3 ratio.
---
In the years between the present day and the time just before the Fall, the global political environment shifted significantly, with the least developed nations slowly collapsing into war-torn tribal states, with refugees streaming away from climate disasters and would-be warlords fighting over the limited resources of these regions. The more developed nations attempted to help as much as possible, although the more militaristic and insular societies resented even the handful of refugees they deigned to accept.
The more observant megacorps and the first hypercorps, augmented with the latest smart systems to analyze events, foresaw the collapse of even the most developed nations from the destabilized regions if nothing was done to prevent it. As a result, they began a number of initiatives to stabilize the least-perturbed regions, purchasing ravaged stretches of land and using nanotech to swiftly assemble entire buildings dedicated to producing cheap supplies and housing in a seemingly selfless humanitarian effort.
In practice, it gave the corps an in-road to build defensive installations, which they quietly used to pacify the more violent warlord with assaults by autonomous squads of war machines, resulting in several carefully concealed atrocities. They followed this up with establishing refugee cities outfitted with swiftly manufactured basic amenities, carefully spread over the endangered areas and linked into increasingly powerful mesh networks. The corps, once a solid cordon was established with their work, contacted the UN and, as a gestalt bargaining force, offered the UN a deal: they would support the creation of an international paramilitary force under UN control in each country they were based in. They'd even supply this new force with military-grade armament.
In exchange, the UN would recognize each involved corp as an independent sovereign nation with a seat and a vote, a move that would render the organization almost half actual countries and half corporate structures. Refuse, the the corps would consolidate their own council and take the matter of dealing with the destabilized areas into their own hands. The UN, aware that a few atrocities that hadn't been covered up thoroughly enough, agreed to the offer.
Backlash was swift; several prominent nations - the United States being the loudest but far from the only - withdrew from the UN in protest of such an international force existing. The end of the backlash was almost as swift, as the corps refused to sell their goods to the countries that protested, causing them all to back down and rejoin the UN by the end of the second month.
The formation of the actual Peacekeeper force took almost a year, as candidates from sources all over the globe were either invited to take the tests or applied on their own initiative, hoping to do some good or at least prevent the Peacekeepers from becoming the strong arm of a totalitarian regime. Some post-Fall scholars point to this as the moment where the military forces of countries like the US began work on the projects that ultimately led to the TITANs, in a fearful attempt to stay a step ahead of the Peacekeepers.
At the time of the game start, the Peacekeepers have been in operation for well over a decade, working hard to bring peace to the more violent areas of the globe, taking out warlords and deliering shipments of humanitarian aid to those driven from their homes. Overall, the force has been a success, with no known repeats of the atrocities that preceded it at the hands of the corps who now outnumber the actual nations at a 2:3 ratio.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Eclipse Phase: Before the Fall Setup, Part 6 - The Blessed Church of Christ Ascendant
Founded on an ultra-conservative mixture of Rapture theology and prosperity gospel, the Blessed Church of Christ Ascendant is the dominant belief system in the region around the Klayman family compound, but it has adherents who either farcast in when possible or who rely on the media feeds and XPs available to keep up on the sermons preached by the pastors. The intense conservative component makes it the last bastion for many memes that have otherwise been dying out, creating a sense of persecution as much of modern society reviles their beliefs.
The head of the church and by far the most charismatic pastor is John Blessed, a man who has a custom-crafted Sylph morph loaded out with everything possible to make him more charismatic and charming. He has sermons five days a week, always at high noon and lasting a minimum of two hours as he works through his sermon, each one calculated to fan the xenophobic fires of his congregation and encourage them to tithe more deeply.
James and Mark Blessed are the other two primary pastors at the church; James relies on his uncanny levels of charisma during his time at the pulpit, making those listening feel as if he might be talking to them, personally. In addition to the Guardian Angels, this means he has a legion of adoring fans who have been effectively indoctrinated to do almost anything he asks of them. Of all the Blessed family, he is the one with the most contacts among local groups outside the church proper, including known members of the guerrilla terror group Martyr's Blade. James gives sermons each Sunday, as well as 2-3 other sermons across the rest of the week, attended at all times by the Guardian Angels.
Mark Blessed focuses on the Rapture theology aspect of the church doctrine, using the ability to modify the acoustics of the church to his advantage as he plays up the dread and fear, and encourages people to tithe more to be certain that their selflessness will be seen and judged worthy of ascension. His bodyguards, while not as dramatic and obvious as his brother's squad, typically occupy positions in the guise of parishioners, their high-tech firearms and body armor concealed under colorful outfits. Mark's connections with several manufacturers of arms and armor ensures that everyone is outfitted with the latest gear, and there is reason to believe that he may be smuggling arms under the guise of aid shipments to surrounding communities.
Maria Klayman plays the role of a quiet and faithful wife in public, with long hair, modest clothing, and no visible signs of cosmetics that obscure a ruthless personality and keen intellect. The clothing is armored smart clothing, with an in-built capacity to form shock gloves should she need personal defense should her bodyguards fail her. While she defers to John in public where congregation members might observe them, in more private locations she rules the three men of her family as an absolute monarch. This level of control may factor in with the potential terrorist contacts of her two children, as nothing short of death seems likely to break her grip over them.
The church itself is built using the latest techniques, with smart nanomaterials providing a high degree of control to anyone able to access the control systems; an AI built to display absolute loyalty to the leaders of the church operates the network, aggressively fighting off any attempts at access. Three primary amphitheaters can each hold upwards of five thousand people comfortably, and numerous smaller chapels fill much of the remaining space, each one able to display the three primary chambers to those within. Total comfortable occupancy of the church is in the vicinity of fifty thousand people.
The building has a security force on par with a small army on top of the personal bodyguards of the clergy; outfitted through Mark's contacts, they could potentially deal with almost any external threat, but they rely on the church's mesh network for command and control functions, a significant vulnerability if the network were to be subverted by a hostile force.
At present, the church does not appear to be poised to threaten the Klayman compound in any fashion.
The head of the church and by far the most charismatic pastor is John Blessed, a man who has a custom-crafted Sylph morph loaded out with everything possible to make him more charismatic and charming. He has sermons five days a week, always at high noon and lasting a minimum of two hours as he works through his sermon, each one calculated to fan the xenophobic fires of his congregation and encourage them to tithe more deeply.
James and Mark Blessed are the other two primary pastors at the church; James relies on his uncanny levels of charisma during his time at the pulpit, making those listening feel as if he might be talking to them, personally. In addition to the Guardian Angels, this means he has a legion of adoring fans who have been effectively indoctrinated to do almost anything he asks of them. Of all the Blessed family, he is the one with the most contacts among local groups outside the church proper, including known members of the guerrilla terror group Martyr's Blade. James gives sermons each Sunday, as well as 2-3 other sermons across the rest of the week, attended at all times by the Guardian Angels.
Mark Blessed focuses on the Rapture theology aspect of the church doctrine, using the ability to modify the acoustics of the church to his advantage as he plays up the dread and fear, and encourages people to tithe more to be certain that their selflessness will be seen and judged worthy of ascension. His bodyguards, while not as dramatic and obvious as his brother's squad, typically occupy positions in the guise of parishioners, their high-tech firearms and body armor concealed under colorful outfits. Mark's connections with several manufacturers of arms and armor ensures that everyone is outfitted with the latest gear, and there is reason to believe that he may be smuggling arms under the guise of aid shipments to surrounding communities.
Maria Klayman plays the role of a quiet and faithful wife in public, with long hair, modest clothing, and no visible signs of cosmetics that obscure a ruthless personality and keen intellect. The clothing is armored smart clothing, with an in-built capacity to form shock gloves should she need personal defense should her bodyguards fail her. While she defers to John in public where congregation members might observe them, in more private locations she rules the three men of her family as an absolute monarch. This level of control may factor in with the potential terrorist contacts of her two children, as nothing short of death seems likely to break her grip over them.
The church itself is built using the latest techniques, with smart nanomaterials providing a high degree of control to anyone able to access the control systems; an AI built to display absolute loyalty to the leaders of the church operates the network, aggressively fighting off any attempts at access. Three primary amphitheaters can each hold upwards of five thousand people comfortably, and numerous smaller chapels fill much of the remaining space, each one able to display the three primary chambers to those within. Total comfortable occupancy of the church is in the vicinity of fifty thousand people.
The building has a security force on par with a small army on top of the personal bodyguards of the clergy; outfitted through Mark's contacts, they could potentially deal with almost any external threat, but they rely on the church's mesh network for command and control functions, a significant vulnerability if the network were to be subverted by a hostile force.
At present, the church does not appear to be poised to threaten the Klayman compound in any fashion.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Eclipse Phase: Before the Fall, Part 5 - The Guardian Angels
A selection of half a dozen individuals who grew up with James Blessed and fell prey to his manipulative nature, the Guardian Angels are today a group of elite bodyguards dedicated to defending James from any threats. All six have been resleeved from their birth bodies and subject to psychosurgical modifications, which each of them will insist was purely voluntary on their part. The intelligence arm of the Peacekeepers is dubious of these claims, as the six never indicated any prior interest in resleeving and the modifications seem to mostly have been to increase devotion to James and the creed of his church.
Each of them is in a Fury morph designed with ethereally beautiful features, white hair, and silver eyes, typically dressed in armored smart clothing that typically augments the sensuality of their design. In spite of each individual's expressed gender identity prior to resleeving, each seems content to be instantiated in a female morph. Combined with their choice of new names based upon Christian archangels, it seems clear that they were heavily modified while being transferred, but unless something concrete about it being involuntary comes to surface little can be done about the situation.
The second-in-command to James goes by the name of Gabriel; originally Rebecca Jones, she excelled at mathematics and geometry and was due to apply at Oxford on graduation from basic education. Before she could, she was resleeved and took up her new name, and has shown no interest in pursuing her former goals. She shows the most initiative of the Guardian Angels, befitting her role as the coordinator of the others. This has certain risks, as she has gone berserk on three occasions, mauling several parishioners who violated the established security perimeter by accident. In the wake of the last, Gabriel has been kept closer to James than the other Guardian Angels. Observed augmentations include implanted claws, augmented vision and hearing, probable medichines, and a probable drug gland that James may be able to remotely activate.
Raphael, formerly Jacob Greensbough, appears to be one of the bruisers of the squad, as her skin appears to have a chitinous texture indicate bio-armor. Her former interests indicate that her participation may have actually been voluntary; she gave every indication of a long-term obsession with James and often defended him from opponents. Augmentations include the bio-armor, implanted shock glove capability, augmented vision and hearing, enhanced reflexes, and clear signs of medichines. Her typical position is alongside James, acting as his most direct bodyguard.
Uriel, formerly Phillip Hart, is the most independent of the Angels, often serving as chauffeur and scout for the group. While her independent role would seem like an ideal contact for potential inflitration, reports indicate heavy psychosurgical editing has left her with the minimal necessary amount of personal autonomy to perform her duties and little ability to operate without outside direction by one of the others; given her former strong identification as a man and her former frequent conflicts of personality with James, it seems likely that she may have been rendered 'docile' by editing. Observed augmentations include medichines, enhanced vision, and probable presence of medichines and a drug gland.
Raguel, formerly Maria Quinzoa, serves as the counterpoint to Raphael; she exhibits little overt personality, but long-term observation suggests enough of the original ego is intact to make her chafe under the control of James and Gabriel. Augmented with bio-armor and implanted shock glove functionality, she rarely strays from the side of Gabriel, but has been observed to occasionally linger when given an opportunity to work away from the others. If infiltration is attempted, she would seem the most likely candidate to be of help. Augmentations beyond those above include medichines and a full suite of enhanced senses, including tactile and olfactory.
Remiel, formerly Jeremiah Dresden, acts as the mesh security operator, coordinator, and SecOps specialist of the group. Originally the least social of the six, she has become somewhat more extroverted since resleeving, taking apparent pleasure in modifying her smart clothing to best emphasize her new form; while this may simply be an expression of latent narcissism, it may also be an attempt at putting would-be assailants off guard. Unlike the others, she has no implanted weapons, instead carrying a pair of vibroknives at her sides. Neurochem and enhanced reflexes are almost certain, along with medichines, enhanced hearing and vision, and a T-ray emitter.
Saraqael, formerly Darcy Mendoza, is usually the most glamorous-looking of the Guardian Angels, often standing arm-in-arm with James when appearing in public and serving as spokesperson for the entire group. The level of fanaticism she exudes in interviews and press releases far exceeds that of Darcy before transfer, but she seems to retain most of her personal autonomy and functionality. Her morph appears to be spliced with some aspects of a Sylph design, with enhanced pheromones, endocrine control, and a highly sanitized metabolism. She is likely outfitted with medichines and a shock system similar to Raphael and Raguel, but primarily relies on her ability to manipulate others to remain clear of trouble.
All six appear to be subject to programmed behaviors that can be set off by a word from James; three specific modes have been observed, including a berserk fury, a 'choir mode' where all six softly echo his every word to give it an added resonance and emphasis, and 'ecstatic mode' where they exhibit manic behavior and are given to fits of glossolalia. All six are well-trained in hand-to-hand combat and the use of personal firearms, and they have been observed acting as a fire team on two occasions, putting down different groups that had sent a threat to James. No survivors were left from either group after the action.
Each of them is in a Fury morph designed with ethereally beautiful features, white hair, and silver eyes, typically dressed in armored smart clothing that typically augments the sensuality of their design. In spite of each individual's expressed gender identity prior to resleeving, each seems content to be instantiated in a female morph. Combined with their choice of new names based upon Christian archangels, it seems clear that they were heavily modified while being transferred, but unless something concrete about it being involuntary comes to surface little can be done about the situation.
The second-in-command to James goes by the name of Gabriel; originally Rebecca Jones, she excelled at mathematics and geometry and was due to apply at Oxford on graduation from basic education. Before she could, she was resleeved and took up her new name, and has shown no interest in pursuing her former goals. She shows the most initiative of the Guardian Angels, befitting her role as the coordinator of the others. This has certain risks, as she has gone berserk on three occasions, mauling several parishioners who violated the established security perimeter by accident. In the wake of the last, Gabriel has been kept closer to James than the other Guardian Angels. Observed augmentations include implanted claws, augmented vision and hearing, probable medichines, and a probable drug gland that James may be able to remotely activate.
Raphael, formerly Jacob Greensbough, appears to be one of the bruisers of the squad, as her skin appears to have a chitinous texture indicate bio-armor. Her former interests indicate that her participation may have actually been voluntary; she gave every indication of a long-term obsession with James and often defended him from opponents. Augmentations include the bio-armor, implanted shock glove capability, augmented vision and hearing, enhanced reflexes, and clear signs of medichines. Her typical position is alongside James, acting as his most direct bodyguard.
Uriel, formerly Phillip Hart, is the most independent of the Angels, often serving as chauffeur and scout for the group. While her independent role would seem like an ideal contact for potential inflitration, reports indicate heavy psychosurgical editing has left her with the minimal necessary amount of personal autonomy to perform her duties and little ability to operate without outside direction by one of the others; given her former strong identification as a man and her former frequent conflicts of personality with James, it seems likely that she may have been rendered 'docile' by editing. Observed augmentations include medichines, enhanced vision, and probable presence of medichines and a drug gland.
Raguel, formerly Maria Quinzoa, serves as the counterpoint to Raphael; she exhibits little overt personality, but long-term observation suggests enough of the original ego is intact to make her chafe under the control of James and Gabriel. Augmented with bio-armor and implanted shock glove functionality, she rarely strays from the side of Gabriel, but has been observed to occasionally linger when given an opportunity to work away from the others. If infiltration is attempted, she would seem the most likely candidate to be of help. Augmentations beyond those above include medichines and a full suite of enhanced senses, including tactile and olfactory.
Remiel, formerly Jeremiah Dresden, acts as the mesh security operator, coordinator, and SecOps specialist of the group. Originally the least social of the six, she has become somewhat more extroverted since resleeving, taking apparent pleasure in modifying her smart clothing to best emphasize her new form; while this may simply be an expression of latent narcissism, it may also be an attempt at putting would-be assailants off guard. Unlike the others, she has no implanted weapons, instead carrying a pair of vibroknives at her sides. Neurochem and enhanced reflexes are almost certain, along with medichines, enhanced hearing and vision, and a T-ray emitter.
Saraqael, formerly Darcy Mendoza, is usually the most glamorous-looking of the Guardian Angels, often standing arm-in-arm with James when appearing in public and serving as spokesperson for the entire group. The level of fanaticism she exudes in interviews and press releases far exceeds that of Darcy before transfer, but she seems to retain most of her personal autonomy and functionality. Her morph appears to be spliced with some aspects of a Sylph design, with enhanced pheromones, endocrine control, and a highly sanitized metabolism. She is likely outfitted with medichines and a shock system similar to Raphael and Raguel, but primarily relies on her ability to manipulate others to remain clear of trouble.
All six appear to be subject to programmed behaviors that can be set off by a word from James; three specific modes have been observed, including a berserk fury, a 'choir mode' where all six softly echo his every word to give it an added resonance and emphasis, and 'ecstatic mode' where they exhibit manic behavior and are given to fits of glossolalia. All six are well-trained in hand-to-hand combat and the use of personal firearms, and they have been observed acting as a fire team on two occasions, putting down different groups that had sent a threat to James. No survivors were left from either group after the action.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Eclipse Phase: Before the Fall, Part 4 - Loadout
This is part of the ongoing pre-campaign prep for a short Eclipse Phase campaign intended to help new players learn the ropes of the system. In this part, we'll look at the equipment issued to the players as members of the UN Peacekeepers.
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Other than the infolife coordinator, every member of the team is in the relevant morph, with a standard loadout of mesh inserts, cortical stack, basic biomods, enhanced vision and hearing, and tacnet software, as well as their muse. Standard equipment issued to each of them includes light body armor with a full helmet, two sets of cuffbands, a set of smart clothes, a portable scanner, a utilitool, a guardian nanoswarm hive, two nanobandages or doses of repair spray, and a shock baton.
The neo-gorilla is additionally issued a suit of heavy combat armor, experimental medichines adapted for neo-hominids, a pair of diamond axes, a heavy pistol railgun with a clip of standard ammuniton and a clip of gel ammunition, and a microwave agonizer. In keeping with their role as the chief combat unit, they have an additional half-dozen nanobandages.
The socialite has several additional modifications, including an enhanced sense of smell, eidetic memory, multiple personality, clean metabolism, endocrine control, and enhanced pheromones. Additionally, their light combat armor has chameleon coating built into it, and their armament includes a light pistol with two clips of gel ammunition.
The infolife essentially has the Nova-class VTOL-capable gunship as a body if it comes down to it, but they're also equipped with an array of software for various purposes, including encryption, facial/image recognition, firewall, sniffer, spoof, and tracking. Additionally, they have three bots with AI loadouts; a creepy intended for internal defensive situations that amounts to a crawling sniper rifle and a pair of hover drones that can act as independent eyes.
The recon specialist has chameleon skin and carapace skin both as biomods, rendering them somewhat reptilian in appearance when they deign to be easily visible. Additionally, they are outfitted with a pair of shock gloves and a diamond axe for close-quarters combat if needed, grip pads and a spindle for covert access to unusual locations, and a microwave agonizer for use where melee combat isn't practical.
The combat AI has heavy armor integrated into their morph, along with a sniper rifle with two clips of armor-piercing rounds; intended to essentially counter any heavily-armored enemies the team encounters, they additionally have an integrated guardian swarm hive, and typically carry a spare recon hover drone similar to the ones attached to the gunship; in an emergency they can grant access to it to the infolife for an extra eye in the sky. As a bonus surprise, the synthmorph has an integrated plasma rifle concealed inside the body, plus lidar and radar to help ensure they can rangefind necessary targets.
The research scientist gets integrated light combat armor rather than a worn suit of armor, with a suit of smart clothing to wear over it. Their additional equipment includes the addition of a chemical sniffer and nanoscopic vision, along with fractal digits and an integrated agonizer mounted in their left arm. They also have t-ray specs, a nanodetector, a hand-held 'mobile lab', and a scout nanoswarm hive. They also carry a light pistol with a clip of gel rounds and a knife for defensive purposes, but are expected to head for the nearest combat-ready team member in any emergency situation.
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Other than the infolife coordinator, every member of the team is in the relevant morph, with a standard loadout of mesh inserts, cortical stack, basic biomods, enhanced vision and hearing, and tacnet software, as well as their muse. Standard equipment issued to each of them includes light body armor with a full helmet, two sets of cuffbands, a set of smart clothes, a portable scanner, a utilitool, a guardian nanoswarm hive, two nanobandages or doses of repair spray, and a shock baton.
The neo-gorilla is additionally issued a suit of heavy combat armor, experimental medichines adapted for neo-hominids, a pair of diamond axes, a heavy pistol railgun with a clip of standard ammuniton and a clip of gel ammunition, and a microwave agonizer. In keeping with their role as the chief combat unit, they have an additional half-dozen nanobandages.
The socialite has several additional modifications, including an enhanced sense of smell, eidetic memory, multiple personality, clean metabolism, endocrine control, and enhanced pheromones. Additionally, their light combat armor has chameleon coating built into it, and their armament includes a light pistol with two clips of gel ammunition.
The infolife essentially has the Nova-class VTOL-capable gunship as a body if it comes down to it, but they're also equipped with an array of software for various purposes, including encryption, facial/image recognition, firewall, sniffer, spoof, and tracking. Additionally, they have three bots with AI loadouts; a creepy intended for internal defensive situations that amounts to a crawling sniper rifle and a pair of hover drones that can act as independent eyes.
The recon specialist has chameleon skin and carapace skin both as biomods, rendering them somewhat reptilian in appearance when they deign to be easily visible. Additionally, they are outfitted with a pair of shock gloves and a diamond axe for close-quarters combat if needed, grip pads and a spindle for covert access to unusual locations, and a microwave agonizer for use where melee combat isn't practical.
The combat AI has heavy armor integrated into their morph, along with a sniper rifle with two clips of armor-piercing rounds; intended to essentially counter any heavily-armored enemies the team encounters, they additionally have an integrated guardian swarm hive, and typically carry a spare recon hover drone similar to the ones attached to the gunship; in an emergency they can grant access to it to the infolife for an extra eye in the sky. As a bonus surprise, the synthmorph has an integrated plasma rifle concealed inside the body, plus lidar and radar to help ensure they can rangefind necessary targets.
The research scientist gets integrated light combat armor rather than a worn suit of armor, with a suit of smart clothing to wear over it. Their additional equipment includes the addition of a chemical sniffer and nanoscopic vision, along with fractal digits and an integrated agonizer mounted in their left arm. They also have t-ray specs, a nanodetector, a hand-held 'mobile lab', and a scout nanoswarm hive. They also carry a light pistol with a clip of gel rounds and a knife for defensive purposes, but are expected to head for the nearest combat-ready team member in any emergency situation.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Eclipse Phase: Before the Fall Setup, Part 3 - The Klayman Family
This post details the rough information available to the UN Peacekeeper Task Force when the Before the Fall game commences.
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The compound is owned by the Klayman family, a family line that got their start cheerily collecting ourageous fees for representing conservative group from the beginning of the 21st century; the founder of the family fortune got his start with die-hard conservative groups in that time, setting a tone of exploitation and extortion that has kept the family well-funded into the present time. Careful investments conducted through obfuscated means have given them a share in most megacorps, as well as a sizable interest in forward-thinking hypercorps already setting up habitats with intent to lease portions to the extremely wealthy. The family's influence keeps pushing to do things cheaper, even if it means skimping a bit on safety measures.
Lawrence Klayman is the current patriarch of the family, inhabiting his second morph and enjoy the revitalized youth and energy it gives him. Although openly a bioconservative, he's not the least bit against benefiting from the fruits of modern science as long as he's able to avoid being called out on it. As such, he has a full complement of cutting edge technology built into his new body. He pretends to be his own grandson when out in public, keeping his original body around on ice to be controlled via puppet sock on occasions when the world needs to see him. His children are less than thrilled at his new lease on life, and he suspects all of them of being involved with a plot to kill him and take over the family business.
Marcus Klayman is the first son of Lawrence, and up until his father got copied into a younger, fitter morph he was expecting the old man to eventually retire and pass it along to him. Well into his eighties by this point, he indulges in various biotechnology to keep himself looking and feeling like a man in his 40s. Involved with several extermist groups in his youth, he appears to have mellowed out and cut his ties once he reached middle age and started studying to inherit his father's position. He's divorced, his wife having taken both of his children and moved to live on Luna, well out of the family's influence.
Maria Klayman is Lawrence's daughter, and the second in line after Marcus. Married to a megachurch pastor who goes by John Blessed, she refused to change her name and risk losing direct access to the inheritance when she got married. She rules her household with a steel fist, despite appearing to be demure and obliging to her husband in public to help ensure his grip over the ultraconservative congregation of his church - nearly a million people disenchanted with their place in the world and certain that John's teachings are the way to glory. Several small terrorist groups in the area claim to be founded on the tenets of what John teaches, although both Maria and John publicly disavow all knowledge of the groups. Their two children, James and Mark, have been groomed to take over the megachurch when John decides to retire; both have spent time extensively learning how to be leaders - something that Lawrence is paranoid about, as either could easily lead a terror group in a raid on the family compound if Maria has decided she wants to take the legacy over.
Jeremiah Klayman is the third in line and appears to be a dilettante, but while he doesn't seem interested in running any of the family business, he's extensively invested in several cutting-edge hypercorps with his allowance, and stands to be fully independent of the family legacy if he so chooses. His children are the result of cloning experiments courtesy of his investments, resulting in two daughters and a son - Brenda, Kathy, and Walter - who have a wide variance in personality despite being gene-tweaked clones. All of them are heavily augmented and more than capable of defending themselves in a fight, but none seem to have any known connection to any groups that might be willing to attack the Klayman family. At this time, all three children are off-world attending lunar universities in pursuit of degrees in advanced genetic engineering and nanotechnology. Jeremiah still resides on the family compound, but has a personal spaceplane that can make LEO stationed at the nearby airport.
Last in line is Matilda Gruzman, who decided to take her hsuband's name on the understanding that she was unlikely to ever need to consider trying to run the family. She and her husband Harold are childless by choice, but more than willing to pretend to be the parents of her father in his new body. Both are hedonists, experimenting with the latest in recreational chemistry and augmented reality whenever they don't need to be in the public eye. They're also the only family members to openly be outfitted with cortical stacks, making them the apparent black sheep of the family; that their 'son' gives the appearance of going to more pure and conservative route (despite the contrary being true) reassures the supporters of the family that the family is still properly under Lawrence's control.
John Blessed is the very image of a total hypocrite, and everyone outside the control zone of his megachurch knows it. Augmented with numerous pieces of cutting-edge technology, he's in an early-model Sylph morph with numerous tweaks to max out his ability to be charming, suave, and persuasive. Anyone not coming to a meeting with countermeasures will find it hard to dislike the man, and might find themselves considering his rather dubious rhetoric. His history has been carefully obfuscated with numerous plausible rumors and confusing paper trails, with alternate trails that suggest he may have been an assassin, a con artist who took world leaders for billions, a serial killer, the only child of climate refugees who simply made it good, and the only survivor of an airplane crash.
James Blessed is a pastor in the Blessed Church of Christ Ascendant, second in command to his father and direct heir in line to take the church over. Genetic modifications before birth assured that he was effectively born in a sylph morph, enabling his easy rise to dominance over the other children around him. This group, the Guardian Angels, serve today as his personal bodyguards whenever he needs to go out in public. No data suggests that he's anything other than he seems.
Mark Blessed serves as a pastor in the Blessed Church of Christ Ascendant, but less frequently than his older brother. Although he also effectively lives in a Sylph morph, his personal aptitudes make him much less inclined to charisma and manipulation by force of personality, instead having an aptitude for figures and logistics that has seen him come to be in charge of the business side of the megachurch, and more recently picking up the Blessed-Klayman portion of the Klayman family fortune to manage for his parents. He has known investments in numerous hypercorps, including several private security firms and armament manufacturers; the equipment carried by the Guardian Angels has been acquired through his contacts with these groups.
Numerous other individuals reside on the family compound - security forces, attendants, more distant lineages of the family, and the like - but this covers the family members presently in the area at the time of the game start.
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The compound is owned by the Klayman family, a family line that got their start cheerily collecting ourageous fees for representing conservative group from the beginning of the 21st century; the founder of the family fortune got his start with die-hard conservative groups in that time, setting a tone of exploitation and extortion that has kept the family well-funded into the present time. Careful investments conducted through obfuscated means have given them a share in most megacorps, as well as a sizable interest in forward-thinking hypercorps already setting up habitats with intent to lease portions to the extremely wealthy. The family's influence keeps pushing to do things cheaper, even if it means skimping a bit on safety measures.
Lawrence Klayman is the current patriarch of the family, inhabiting his second morph and enjoy the revitalized youth and energy it gives him. Although openly a bioconservative, he's not the least bit against benefiting from the fruits of modern science as long as he's able to avoid being called out on it. As such, he has a full complement of cutting edge technology built into his new body. He pretends to be his own grandson when out in public, keeping his original body around on ice to be controlled via puppet sock on occasions when the world needs to see him. His children are less than thrilled at his new lease on life, and he suspects all of them of being involved with a plot to kill him and take over the family business.
Marcus Klayman is the first son of Lawrence, and up until his father got copied into a younger, fitter morph he was expecting the old man to eventually retire and pass it along to him. Well into his eighties by this point, he indulges in various biotechnology to keep himself looking and feeling like a man in his 40s. Involved with several extermist groups in his youth, he appears to have mellowed out and cut his ties once he reached middle age and started studying to inherit his father's position. He's divorced, his wife having taken both of his children and moved to live on Luna, well out of the family's influence.
Maria Klayman is Lawrence's daughter, and the second in line after Marcus. Married to a megachurch pastor who goes by John Blessed, she refused to change her name and risk losing direct access to the inheritance when she got married. She rules her household with a steel fist, despite appearing to be demure and obliging to her husband in public to help ensure his grip over the ultraconservative congregation of his church - nearly a million people disenchanted with their place in the world and certain that John's teachings are the way to glory. Several small terrorist groups in the area claim to be founded on the tenets of what John teaches, although both Maria and John publicly disavow all knowledge of the groups. Their two children, James and Mark, have been groomed to take over the megachurch when John decides to retire; both have spent time extensively learning how to be leaders - something that Lawrence is paranoid about, as either could easily lead a terror group in a raid on the family compound if Maria has decided she wants to take the legacy over.
Jeremiah Klayman is the third in line and appears to be a dilettante, but while he doesn't seem interested in running any of the family business, he's extensively invested in several cutting-edge hypercorps with his allowance, and stands to be fully independent of the family legacy if he so chooses. His children are the result of cloning experiments courtesy of his investments, resulting in two daughters and a son - Brenda, Kathy, and Walter - who have a wide variance in personality despite being gene-tweaked clones. All of them are heavily augmented and more than capable of defending themselves in a fight, but none seem to have any known connection to any groups that might be willing to attack the Klayman family. At this time, all three children are off-world attending lunar universities in pursuit of degrees in advanced genetic engineering and nanotechnology. Jeremiah still resides on the family compound, but has a personal spaceplane that can make LEO stationed at the nearby airport.
Last in line is Matilda Gruzman, who decided to take her hsuband's name on the understanding that she was unlikely to ever need to consider trying to run the family. She and her husband Harold are childless by choice, but more than willing to pretend to be the parents of her father in his new body. Both are hedonists, experimenting with the latest in recreational chemistry and augmented reality whenever they don't need to be in the public eye. They're also the only family members to openly be outfitted with cortical stacks, making them the apparent black sheep of the family; that their 'son' gives the appearance of going to more pure and conservative route (despite the contrary being true) reassures the supporters of the family that the family is still properly under Lawrence's control.
John Blessed is the very image of a total hypocrite, and everyone outside the control zone of his megachurch knows it. Augmented with numerous pieces of cutting-edge technology, he's in an early-model Sylph morph with numerous tweaks to max out his ability to be charming, suave, and persuasive. Anyone not coming to a meeting with countermeasures will find it hard to dislike the man, and might find themselves considering his rather dubious rhetoric. His history has been carefully obfuscated with numerous plausible rumors and confusing paper trails, with alternate trails that suggest he may have been an assassin, a con artist who took world leaders for billions, a serial killer, the only child of climate refugees who simply made it good, and the only survivor of an airplane crash.
James Blessed is a pastor in the Blessed Church of Christ Ascendant, second in command to his father and direct heir in line to take the church over. Genetic modifications before birth assured that he was effectively born in a sylph morph, enabling his easy rise to dominance over the other children around him. This group, the Guardian Angels, serve today as his personal bodyguards whenever he needs to go out in public. No data suggests that he's anything other than he seems.
Mark Blessed serves as a pastor in the Blessed Church of Christ Ascendant, but less frequently than his older brother. Although he also effectively lives in a Sylph morph, his personal aptitudes make him much less inclined to charisma and manipulation by force of personality, instead having an aptitude for figures and logistics that has seen him come to be in charge of the business side of the megachurch, and more recently picking up the Blessed-Klayman portion of the Klayman family fortune to manage for his parents. He has known investments in numerous hypercorps, including several private security firms and armament manufacturers; the equipment carried by the Guardian Angels has been acquired through his contacts with these groups.
Numerous other individuals reside on the family compound - security forces, attendants, more distant lineages of the family, and the like - but this covers the family members presently in the area at the time of the game start.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Eclipse Phase: Before the Fall Setup, Part Two
Before the Fall, the Earth is still habitable, if well on the way to becoming an absolute disaster. Off-planet migration is well under way as people sign up with megacorporate interests and newly founded hypercorps to get offworld, often signing away decades of their lives with contracts that can be indefinitely extended by forcing people to pay for the resources they used at arbitrarily high rates. Even with their rise to relative prominence, the UN and the newly organized Peacekeepers are a finger being used to plug a single leak in a crumbling dam.
The climate is sliding into chaos, entire ecosystems sliding into collapse despite the best efforts of environmental scientists and genetic engineers as some areas flood under torrential downpours and others bake for months under relentless sunlight. Refugees are fleeing the less hospitable parts of the world, stressing the still-stable countries willing to let them in and forcing others to militarize to keep them at bay.
Some areas find their governmental structures dissolving, with new countries arising and falling in a churn as people struggle to stabilize things and old animosities boil up, augmented by the power of new technologies. Terrorists with access to nanotechnology find it possible to commit atrocities on scales never seen before, and the UN Peacekeepers find themselves busy responding to dozens of small-scale terror threats, any one of which might have a much vaster danger hiding inside it.
So it is with the first mission of the campaign, as the team is scrambled to the personal compound of a would-be dictator with ties to several megacorps and hypercorps that help fund the UN; death threats have been made by unnamed terrorists, and so despite the understanding that nothing is likely to come from it, the team must treat it as something deadly serious. Complicating the matter is the fact that the man is a colossal jerk, a bigoted scumbag the world would really be better off without. He has a large staff of personal guards, none of whom he trusts to not being conspiring with the terrorists against him, along with an extended family who all have reasons to resent and fear him.
The compound has several AGI tasked to manage the private security systems, each one set up to be destroyed at his whim if he thinks they might be betraying him, even as he skimps on actual security systems in favor of getting the UN to look after him. As such, the compound is curiously compromised, with absolute surveillance and very little ability to do much of anything with it, amplified by the grudging compliance of enslaved intellects.
And, well, there's always the chance that the terrorist threats are actually real, delivered by someone with access to technology and firepower sufficient to make good on them.
Next Setup post will look at the compound itself, with a look at the floorplan and defenses that the players will have access to during their investigation.
The climate is sliding into chaos, entire ecosystems sliding into collapse despite the best efforts of environmental scientists and genetic engineers as some areas flood under torrential downpours and others bake for months under relentless sunlight. Refugees are fleeing the less hospitable parts of the world, stressing the still-stable countries willing to let them in and forcing others to militarize to keep them at bay.
Some areas find their governmental structures dissolving, with new countries arising and falling in a churn as people struggle to stabilize things and old animosities boil up, augmented by the power of new technologies. Terrorists with access to nanotechnology find it possible to commit atrocities on scales never seen before, and the UN Peacekeepers find themselves busy responding to dozens of small-scale terror threats, any one of which might have a much vaster danger hiding inside it.
So it is with the first mission of the campaign, as the team is scrambled to the personal compound of a would-be dictator with ties to several megacorps and hypercorps that help fund the UN; death threats have been made by unnamed terrorists, and so despite the understanding that nothing is likely to come from it, the team must treat it as something deadly serious. Complicating the matter is the fact that the man is a colossal jerk, a bigoted scumbag the world would really be better off without. He has a large staff of personal guards, none of whom he trusts to not being conspiring with the terrorists against him, along with an extended family who all have reasons to resent and fear him.
The compound has several AGI tasked to manage the private security systems, each one set up to be destroyed at his whim if he thinks they might be betraying him, even as he skimps on actual security systems in favor of getting the UN to look after him. As such, the compound is curiously compromised, with absolute surveillance and very little ability to do much of anything with it, amplified by the grudging compliance of enslaved intellects.
And, well, there's always the chance that the terrorist threats are actually real, delivered by someone with access to technology and firepower sufficient to make good on them.
Next Setup post will look at the compound itself, with a look at the floorplan and defenses that the players will have access to during their investigation.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Eclipse Phase: Before The Fall Setup, Part One
The initial setup for the Before the Fall mini-campaign is going to comprise defining the characters and their construction, the state of the world relative to the session itself, and the fiddly details of both soft storytelling components and crunchier mechanical aspects. The two most important goals are to introduce the players to the way the game works and to make sure that they enjoy it.
To this end, the characters I'll be creating for this will fall into some relatively easily defined roles, even though even the simplest one is a step outside the roles outlined by class-based games. Each character, while being a specialist in their role, will still have points in 'fluff' skills that may turn out to be handy to have over the course of the games.
---
The neo-gorilla is obviously a tough - a large, powerful brick of a character that, if this were D20, one might expect to be a fighter or a barbarian. This isn't that bad of a strategy in Eclipse Phase - monofilament weapons can be deadly when used skillfully, and they have the advantage of not being that likely to accidentally puncture pressurized structures like high-power firearms, energy weapons, grenades, and the like. That isn't the case here, however - this character was uplifted as part of a series that enhanced the strength and durability of the baseline creature in addition to human-like intelligence. As such, they can serve as a heavy weapons specialist, carrying the kind of firepower that can stop a tank cold.
The role of the character as a heavy weapons specialist is augmented by their size and obvious strength, making them the impressive-looking stick to the polite and friendly carrot of the more socially-oriented characters. When someone needs intimidated or frightened, they're the one the team can most easily turn to, not the least because uplifts are still relatively uncommon, giving the added factor of seeming like a barely civilized animal to those unfamiliar with uplifts.
---
The next character is a socialite, born into the kind of fluid social environment that most people have trouble keeping track of, with a morph modified to provide every edge possible and a visible personality pretty much designed to be as charming as possible. Persuasion is second nature for them, and the blandly pleasant features of their morph let them get away with being memorable only as a nice and friendly sort, someone who remains fondly remembered even if they've just taken a person's wallet and wandered off to empty it out.
Behind that friendly personality is a different animal; a mind of crystalline logic and precision calculations keeps track of every detail with a memory designed to be eiditic and their brain fine-tuned to perform at maximum speed. Augmented with multi-tasking systems built into their nervous system, they're essentially an entire team of social engineers in a single body, ready to handle any social situation they get dropped into. They're the usual carrot to the neo-gorilla's stick, and they relish every chance to dazzle, baffle, and charm those they have to deal with, keeping their actual feelings well-hidden behind a smiling face and cloud of pheromones.
---
The infosec specialist was born human, but due to events in their life, they ended up becoming infolife - a mind whose embodiment is purely in a digital format. With access to a much higher speed of thought, no need to actually sleep, and a carefully cultivated talent for both research and security systems, they completed their post-primary education in record time and managed to get accepted to work for the UN Peacekeepers with the belief that it wouldn't be much more than a glorified desk job leaving them ample time to do their own research and pursue their ongoing education.
They were a bit surprised when their qualifications landed them a job as an actual Peacekeeper; few enough infolife exist at the time that the minicampaign begins that the phenomenal multitasking ability of an infomorph can't be overlooked, and their skills line up to put them in the role of a coordinator, managing team communication, directing the others with oversight, and jamming the team's bots when the situation calls for it. Of course, there are perks - like essentially having a fancy Nova-class VTOL gunship as a body when needed. They could get used to that perk.
---
The recon specialist is old enough to have known the world before ubiquitous surveillance became a thing, and they're justifiably smug about having not only been skilled enough to survive the job back then, but to successfully transfer to the modern world with eyes and ears everywhere. They've lost track of their original body a long time ago, hopping into newer bodies as they became useful; today they live in a body designed with durability and stealth in mind, giving them an edge that they exploit to the best of their ability.
Ideas like modesty and shame also got left behind a long time ago, and with the drastic rebuild of their body for their current morphs they tend to regard clothing as a quaint affectation that has nothing to do with them. If pressed on the subject, they'll adjust their scaly skin to provide a rough illusion of clothing, abandoning it as soon as they can; the only time they feel any concern about the subject is when they have to face someone with direct authority over them, when their nudity leaves them feeling conspicuous, unlike their usual condition of blending in as perfectly as possible.
---
The combat-oriented AGI was built as a weapons system of surpassing complexity, bordering on the verge of spontaneous uplift; with enough system resources, they might even have become a nascent seed AI. They were uplifted and put through a socialization program in order to prevent a combat-hungry superintelligence from developing with no attachment to transhumanity, and were passed to the UN as part of a demonstration by their creators of the company's support for the UN Peacekeepers.
They still think foremost in combat terms, assessing everything they encounter in terms of combat priority. Their heavy armor and mechanical power has led to them developing a preference for melee combat, shrugging off anything short of anti-tank ordnance and closing on their targets in a showing that certainly gives new life to the concept of shock and awe tactics. Somewhere in their past, someone thought it would be funny to show them recordings of fictional combat robots, and they picked up some trace of speech patterns from HK-47 from the Knights of the Old Republic video game, giving them a perpetually sinister vibe.
---
The research scientist is an eccentric, at best; a researcher of cognition, psychology, and other fields of the mind, they were early adopters of cortical stack technology - a fact that saved them, as a colleague's lab experiments went badly and the ensuing fire killed them. When they were revived in a modest synth, the trauma of their death both left them with a case of modest pyrophobia and a fascination with the experience of dying. More than once they've loaded forks of themself into cheap case morphs to go experience a particular kind of death, followed by reintegrating the fork afterward.
The resulting lack of fear toward death was what ultimately brought them to the Peacekeepers; able to be trusted to do the most suicidal tasks that might be required, they're given tasks that can't be handled by jamming a bot, or which require direct intervention by transhuman minds. They're more than willing, as their experiments and research have been steadily leading them toward the idea that they may eventually want to ditch transhumanity entirely and head off on their own into the dark between the stars - and both the pay and the additional training by the Peacekeepers will be handy in that task.
To this end, the characters I'll be creating for this will fall into some relatively easily defined roles, even though even the simplest one is a step outside the roles outlined by class-based games. Each character, while being a specialist in their role, will still have points in 'fluff' skills that may turn out to be handy to have over the course of the games.
---
The neo-gorilla is obviously a tough - a large, powerful brick of a character that, if this were D20, one might expect to be a fighter or a barbarian. This isn't that bad of a strategy in Eclipse Phase - monofilament weapons can be deadly when used skillfully, and they have the advantage of not being that likely to accidentally puncture pressurized structures like high-power firearms, energy weapons, grenades, and the like. That isn't the case here, however - this character was uplifted as part of a series that enhanced the strength and durability of the baseline creature in addition to human-like intelligence. As such, they can serve as a heavy weapons specialist, carrying the kind of firepower that can stop a tank cold.
The role of the character as a heavy weapons specialist is augmented by their size and obvious strength, making them the impressive-looking stick to the polite and friendly carrot of the more socially-oriented characters. When someone needs intimidated or frightened, they're the one the team can most easily turn to, not the least because uplifts are still relatively uncommon, giving the added factor of seeming like a barely civilized animal to those unfamiliar with uplifts.
---
The next character is a socialite, born into the kind of fluid social environment that most people have trouble keeping track of, with a morph modified to provide every edge possible and a visible personality pretty much designed to be as charming as possible. Persuasion is second nature for them, and the blandly pleasant features of their morph let them get away with being memorable only as a nice and friendly sort, someone who remains fondly remembered even if they've just taken a person's wallet and wandered off to empty it out.
Behind that friendly personality is a different animal; a mind of crystalline logic and precision calculations keeps track of every detail with a memory designed to be eiditic and their brain fine-tuned to perform at maximum speed. Augmented with multi-tasking systems built into their nervous system, they're essentially an entire team of social engineers in a single body, ready to handle any social situation they get dropped into. They're the usual carrot to the neo-gorilla's stick, and they relish every chance to dazzle, baffle, and charm those they have to deal with, keeping their actual feelings well-hidden behind a smiling face and cloud of pheromones.
---
The infosec specialist was born human, but due to events in their life, they ended up becoming infolife - a mind whose embodiment is purely in a digital format. With access to a much higher speed of thought, no need to actually sleep, and a carefully cultivated talent for both research and security systems, they completed their post-primary education in record time and managed to get accepted to work for the UN Peacekeepers with the belief that it wouldn't be much more than a glorified desk job leaving them ample time to do their own research and pursue their ongoing education.
They were a bit surprised when their qualifications landed them a job as an actual Peacekeeper; few enough infolife exist at the time that the minicampaign begins that the phenomenal multitasking ability of an infomorph can't be overlooked, and their skills line up to put them in the role of a coordinator, managing team communication, directing the others with oversight, and jamming the team's bots when the situation calls for it. Of course, there are perks - like essentially having a fancy Nova-class VTOL gunship as a body when needed. They could get used to that perk.
---
The recon specialist is old enough to have known the world before ubiquitous surveillance became a thing, and they're justifiably smug about having not only been skilled enough to survive the job back then, but to successfully transfer to the modern world with eyes and ears everywhere. They've lost track of their original body a long time ago, hopping into newer bodies as they became useful; today they live in a body designed with durability and stealth in mind, giving them an edge that they exploit to the best of their ability.
Ideas like modesty and shame also got left behind a long time ago, and with the drastic rebuild of their body for their current morphs they tend to regard clothing as a quaint affectation that has nothing to do with them. If pressed on the subject, they'll adjust their scaly skin to provide a rough illusion of clothing, abandoning it as soon as they can; the only time they feel any concern about the subject is when they have to face someone with direct authority over them, when their nudity leaves them feeling conspicuous, unlike their usual condition of blending in as perfectly as possible.
---
The combat-oriented AGI was built as a weapons system of surpassing complexity, bordering on the verge of spontaneous uplift; with enough system resources, they might even have become a nascent seed AI. They were uplifted and put through a socialization program in order to prevent a combat-hungry superintelligence from developing with no attachment to transhumanity, and were passed to the UN as part of a demonstration by their creators of the company's support for the UN Peacekeepers.
They still think foremost in combat terms, assessing everything they encounter in terms of combat priority. Their heavy armor and mechanical power has led to them developing a preference for melee combat, shrugging off anything short of anti-tank ordnance and closing on their targets in a showing that certainly gives new life to the concept of shock and awe tactics. Somewhere in their past, someone thought it would be funny to show them recordings of fictional combat robots, and they picked up some trace of speech patterns from HK-47 from the Knights of the Old Republic video game, giving them a perpetually sinister vibe.
---
The research scientist is an eccentric, at best; a researcher of cognition, psychology, and other fields of the mind, they were early adopters of cortical stack technology - a fact that saved them, as a colleague's lab experiments went badly and the ensuing fire killed them. When they were revived in a modest synth, the trauma of their death both left them with a case of modest pyrophobia and a fascination with the experience of dying. More than once they've loaded forks of themself into cheap case morphs to go experience a particular kind of death, followed by reintegrating the fork afterward.
The resulting lack of fear toward death was what ultimately brought them to the Peacekeepers; able to be trusted to do the most suicidal tasks that might be required, they're given tasks that can't be handled by jamming a bot, or which require direct intervention by transhuman minds. They're more than willing, as their experiments and research have been steadily leading them toward the idea that they may eventually want to ditch transhumanity entirely and head off on their own into the dark between the stars - and both the pay and the additional training by the Peacekeepers will be handy in that task.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Eclipse Phase - Before The Fall
(Originally intended to be the only Monday post this week, I present the first post in the Before the Fall campaign design sequence.)
Eclipse Phase is a fantastic science fiction game; it's about transhumanism, horror, and conspiracy at the base level, published by the fine folks at Posthuman Studios and made available via Creative Commons so that if you can't afford to buy the game, you can still legally acquire copies to play. That said, if you can afford it, buy at least the PDFs. The Posthumans need funding to make more books, after all.
The default timeline of EP is set several years after the events of the Fall, with humanity seemingly stable in the aftermath of what amounted to the apocalypse. 99% of the world was wiped out, the remainder are smeared across the solar system in a thin film of life, and Earth is essentially uninhabitable.
I'm presently designing a short campaign set to take place during the Fall itself, with prebuilt characters to enable everyone to sit down and get used to playing without having to worry about any of the mechanical components of character creation before they're used to the way the game plays. Posts in this series will be about the premade characters, the situation the PCs begin in, the circumstances of the pre-Fall world, and - when my group eventually plays this - the scenarios that I use and a review of how things go.
Cast
An uplifted gorilla who specializes in heavy weaponry; grumpy, grudging, proud, and very defnitely with a mercurial attitude. Not overly fond of the nickname 'Tarzan' that has been applied, but accepts it as better than HU-LS-66903.
A splicer with significant body modification and a winning personality in spite of singularity seeker philosophies; the face for the team, able to schmooze with diplomats and hypercorp execs as easily as with old-world royalty and rank-and-file grunts in any line of work.
An infolife who resides primarily on the primary computer systems of the team's transport; serves as the infosec specialist and the researcher for the team, and sees no reason to be embodied when they can easily jam a drone to do whatever physical work needs doing.
An old-world recon specialist whose moderate biochauvanist streak doesn't keep them from being instantiated in a ghost morph. Chameleon skin and integrated biological armor work well with their lack of any sense of modesty, letting them hide in places that more modest individuals wouldn't be able to handle.
An AGI in a combat-rated synth morph designed as a smart weapon system that was so complex that it was uplifted and hastily indoctrinated to ensure it would at least recognize the value of transhuman life. The AGI's personality may have some similarities to HK-47, alongside a willingness to cheerily assess and classify anything that moves via combat priority.
A research scientist in a synth morph, working to pay for their education and body after an unfortunately lab accident killed their birth body. They've become fascinated with consciousness, sapience, and the process of death and continuity of self in the aftermath of their own first death. A little morbid, but not nihilistic by any stretch.
Rough Synopsis
The PCs are a group working for the United Nations in a future where the UN has manage to achieve some greater level of power simple because the traditional nation-states have begun to fall apart, rent by various disasters and struggles and split open by the behemoth megacorps; hypercorps have begun to take off, capitalizing on openings the emgacorps are too sluggish to really do anything about. Ego backups, cortical stacks, and resleeving are all relatively new, with the team being one of the first groups all outfitted with this kind of technology.
The initial scenario is that of a diplomatic mission, with the group being sent there to look into claims that assassins are stalking a would-be corporate dictator who happens to be wealthy enough to be of value and generous enough to the UN to be a priority. No one seriously expects assassins, but field testing the latest technology is a good enough reason to dispatch them to the site. Of course, hoping for a peaceful situation on a world teetering on the brink of global war, famine, and ecosystem collapse is just too much to hope for...
Restrictions
No character will be an async.
No character will have high-end nanotechnology.
The world is still in a scarcity-based monetary economy.
Firewall and other x-threat-related groups do not yet exist.
The TITANs aren't a thing as yet.
Stay tuned if you're interested!
Next Entry: Setup, Part One
Eclipse Phase is a fantastic science fiction game; it's about transhumanism, horror, and conspiracy at the base level, published by the fine folks at Posthuman Studios and made available via Creative Commons so that if you can't afford to buy the game, you can still legally acquire copies to play. That said, if you can afford it, buy at least the PDFs. The Posthumans need funding to make more books, after all.
The default timeline of EP is set several years after the events of the Fall, with humanity seemingly stable in the aftermath of what amounted to the apocalypse. 99% of the world was wiped out, the remainder are smeared across the solar system in a thin film of life, and Earth is essentially uninhabitable.
I'm presently designing a short campaign set to take place during the Fall itself, with prebuilt characters to enable everyone to sit down and get used to playing without having to worry about any of the mechanical components of character creation before they're used to the way the game plays. Posts in this series will be about the premade characters, the situation the PCs begin in, the circumstances of the pre-Fall world, and - when my group eventually plays this - the scenarios that I use and a review of how things go.
Cast
An uplifted gorilla who specializes in heavy weaponry; grumpy, grudging, proud, and very defnitely with a mercurial attitude. Not overly fond of the nickname 'Tarzan' that has been applied, but accepts it as better than HU-LS-66903.
A splicer with significant body modification and a winning personality in spite of singularity seeker philosophies; the face for the team, able to schmooze with diplomats and hypercorp execs as easily as with old-world royalty and rank-and-file grunts in any line of work.
An infolife who resides primarily on the primary computer systems of the team's transport; serves as the infosec specialist and the researcher for the team, and sees no reason to be embodied when they can easily jam a drone to do whatever physical work needs doing.
An old-world recon specialist whose moderate biochauvanist streak doesn't keep them from being instantiated in a ghost morph. Chameleon skin and integrated biological armor work well with their lack of any sense of modesty, letting them hide in places that more modest individuals wouldn't be able to handle.
An AGI in a combat-rated synth morph designed as a smart weapon system that was so complex that it was uplifted and hastily indoctrinated to ensure it would at least recognize the value of transhuman life. The AGI's personality may have some similarities to HK-47, alongside a willingness to cheerily assess and classify anything that moves via combat priority.
A research scientist in a synth morph, working to pay for their education and body after an unfortunately lab accident killed their birth body. They've become fascinated with consciousness, sapience, and the process of death and continuity of self in the aftermath of their own first death. A little morbid, but not nihilistic by any stretch.
Rough Synopsis
The PCs are a group working for the United Nations in a future where the UN has manage to achieve some greater level of power simple because the traditional nation-states have begun to fall apart, rent by various disasters and struggles and split open by the behemoth megacorps; hypercorps have begun to take off, capitalizing on openings the emgacorps are too sluggish to really do anything about. Ego backups, cortical stacks, and resleeving are all relatively new, with the team being one of the first groups all outfitted with this kind of technology.
The initial scenario is that of a diplomatic mission, with the group being sent there to look into claims that assassins are stalking a would-be corporate dictator who happens to be wealthy enough to be of value and generous enough to the UN to be a priority. No one seriously expects assassins, but field testing the latest technology is a good enough reason to dispatch them to the site. Of course, hoping for a peaceful situation on a world teetering on the brink of global war, famine, and ecosystem collapse is just too much to hope for...
Restrictions
No character will be an async.
No character will have high-end nanotechnology.
The world is still in a scarcity-based monetary economy.
Firewall and other x-threat-related groups do not yet exist.
The TITANs aren't a thing as yet.
Stay tuned if you're interested!
Next Entry: Setup, Part One
Friday, July 3, 2015
Seeds - Eclipse Phase: The Mime Cult
The setting of Eclipse Phase is full of all kinds of things, both wondrous and horrible. Earth is essentially gone, the old way of doing things is collapsing, and humanity, despite being 99% wiped out, is still fighting with one another over the Right Way of doing things. Small surprise that some people turn their backs on being human - or transhuman - entirely, then. The Mime Cult is one such group, a small collection of exhumans who use high-bandwidth mesh links, tactical network software, and some rather hazardous psychosurgery to remove their need to communicate.
Operating in Venusian space, the Mime Cult appears, on the surface, to be an old-fashioned group of entertainers who get by on a mix of credits and rep score, performing skits in public without ever saying a word. On all public-access feeds, the members - each one with their skin pigmented to perfectly match mime face paint - appear to stay in character as harmless performers who simply want to bring some levity into the world.
In the hidden spaces of the habitats where they're active, the Mime Cult carries out the other part of their plans. Darkcasting rigs and desktop cornucopia machines crammed into disused maintenance areas where only service bots go allow the members of the group to ply their trade and add to their ranks - invisibility cloaks and cheaply made synths with chameleon skin allow them to abduct the poor, the destitute, and the unwanted from areas with spotty coverage, dragging them to the darkcasting rigs to send their minds to a small tin can hab swinging at the very edge of Venusian space.
This habitat, which appears derelict from the outside, is crammed with simulspace servers. New arrivals are quickly fed into extreme psychosurgical modification programs, carving and molding the original ego into a twisted mockery of itself. For most, it takes only a few days of real time before they emerge with their minds radically altered to accept the dictates of the Mime Cult; by the time they're sent back to the original habitat to be loaded into their newly-pigmented old morph, little remains of the original ego.
Other than the kidnapping, the group might be only a modest threat were it not for the fact that the original Mime Cultists are a trio of exsurgents, their minds spliced by the TITANs to unify them. In constant contact via their mesh inserts, they're a three-faced god to the cult, and they include a subtle strain of the exsurgent virus in the indoctrination procedure. Mime Cultists are driven to spread like a slow cancer, disguising their predations behind a facade of harmless entertainment, until they reach a critical mass in a given habitat.
At that point, the Mime Cult metastasizes, going from a benign-seeming intrusion to a nightmarish vector of destruction. A memetic trigger sweeps through the group, causing them to trigger dormant nanite hives installed while the egos were being modified; in a matter of hours, the modified morphs grow heavy armor, still pigmented to look like mimes. Their fingers give way to lengthy claws, reinforced to let them tear through body armor, while their muscles and nerves are rebuilt to make them stronger and faster.
Once a Mime Cult cell metastasizes, the members sweep through the population of a habitat, slaughtering anyone they encounter and harvesting their cortical stacks to be sent for modification. Once a habitat has been emptied of inhabitants, the cultists upload themselves, leaving delta forks behind that quickly compromise the habitat and upset its orbit to send it tumbling into the atmosphere of Venus, hiding their tracks with distress calls and emergency messages about system failures.
The Mime Cult so far has evaded notice by Firewall, but the destruction of three habitats has started to draw attention; the group is the only thing that the three events have in common, and sentinel teams have been tasked with researching the situation.
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